If You'll Indulge Me, Sir
by Novacaine Child
Summary: We all saw Pirelli ask Sweeney for half his earnings... But what else might he have requested if Sweeney had kept a level head? Yes, I wrote it! PirelliXSweeney slash! Hahahaha! R&R please. M for sexual content. A little humour also. Lalalalalala.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello again, my sweeties! I'm still in the middle of "If only angels could prevail," and I needed a break. So I sat down and thought, what pairings haven't been done? And this came to me. So hadidhahahahaha! I wrote it! Sweeney X Pirelli! And there's some humour in there for you too, darlings. Please, please R&R, I'll love you muchly if you do. Special love to my gorgeous lovely Grapenut, and to Twitch if you're reading, love. Here's to our naked Xmas! Luvvage to all!**

**This story:**

**Pirelli bursts in on Sweeney and wants half his earnings, that much we know… but what else might he have demanded if Sweeney had been a little more thoughtful? Oh, what do you care? You just want to read the slash. I know. Well, I like writing it, so everyone's happy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Sweeney Todd or any related characters. You think I'd let him get with Pirelli if I did? Eww. No. It's only a few more sleeps 'til Santa though, and he wrote back promising me Sweeney and crew under my tree dressed in Santy hats and decorative sprigs of holly only come Xmas day. (Ouch.) Be sure that you'll find me under the mistletoe taking traditions to the extremes into the realms of dirty and beyond into the unspeakable. Youtube clips uploaded soon. XD Merry Xmas, all!**

"Come in."

Pirelli pushed open the door to the parlour, taking in the sight of Mr Todd irritably sweeping hair from the seat of his barber's chair to the floor. He smiled slyly.

"Meester Todd," he crooned, in a think Italian accent.

"Senor Pirelli," replied Sweeney bluntly, in his very English one.

Senor Pirelli grinned in amusement, and spoke again, in a very different voice.

"Call me Davey… David Connor's the name when it's not professional like," he said slimily. Sweeney frowned in surprise, and turned to consider the man standing in the doorway. Davey stepped towards him, still smiling hungrily.

"I'd like me five quid back, if you don't mind," he said.

"Why?" asked Sweeney, trying not to let his surprise and confusion show.

"Because," smirked Davey, "You entered into our little wager under false pretences my friend… And so that you might remember to be a little more careful in the future, I'll be taking half your profits from here in." He shot a mischievous grin at Mr Todd, pulling off his embroidered white gloves slowly. Sweeney still frowned at him confusedly.

"Share and share alike," laughed Davey. "Mr. Benjamin Barker…" Sweeney's eyes flew to the man's face in shock. That was the last thing he had expected. He was a different person now… Benjamin was gone and in his place stood this dark eerie shadow of a man. How had Davey recognised him? Who the hell was he anyway? He stared at the man with uncertainty, then let his eyes drop to the floor, defeat stamped over his despairing face.

"Don't recognise me, do you?" asked Davey mockingly. "And why should you? I was only a little nipper you hired for a while, sweeping up hair." He strode across the room, and pulled a razor from the wooden box on the dressing table. "But I remember these… and how could I ever forget you, Mr Barker?" Sweeney looked at him in silence, realisation begginig to dawn on him. David Connor. Yes, he remembered now… He shook his head angrily and stared back at his shoes.

"I used to sit right here," said Davey, seating himself in the window, "And dream of the day I could be a proper barber meself… You might say you was… inspiration to me." He grinned madly up at Sweeney, who glowered back.

"What do you want?" asked Sweeney irritably. He knew there was no escaping this, that he had to give in to the boy's demands, at least until he had a plan, a safe place he could stash his body once he'd killed him. But he didn't have to like it.

"Like I said, Meester Todd," laughed Davey, his reverting back to his strong Italian voice. "Half of your earnings would-a do nicely… Oh, and there-a is one more thing…" Pirelli stood up from his seat in the window and walked slowly towards Sweeny, who stood his ground, without flinching. Pirelli stopped about an inch away from him, he was close enough for Sweeney to feel his breath, hot on his forehead.

Pirelli snaked his hand down between the two men and cupped Sweeney's crotch through his tight pinstripe trousers. Sweeney looked at him in horror, and stepped backwards.

"No!"

"Come now, Mr Todd," chided the man. "If you don't want me to run down the street to me old pal, Beadle Bamford…" Sweeney ground his teeth in fear and agitation, knowing that he would have to do as he was told. It was this or death, and when it came down to it, he was sure he'd been forced to do worse things in Australia than this boy could ask him to do. He swallowed hard and nodded.

"Fine," he muttered angrily, feeling nauseous as the sense of foreboding and disgust crept over him, chilling him. Mrs. Lovett never seemed to bloody leave him alone, he thought viciously. The one time it would have been useful to have her burst in on him… Yet she stayed quietly downstairs, cleaning, she said. How she ever cleaned that kitchen, he would never know. You could count a hundred insects sitting in that kitchen for an hour.

"Good," whispered Davey, smiling crookedly. He snaked his hand slowly into Sweeney's waistband, and down, feeling fine, downy hairs. Sweeney closed his eyes and pretended he could feel nothing. Don't move, he thought sternly, trying to communicate with his penis. Don't fucking move, or I swear to God I'll cut you off later. Davey grinned as he closed his fist around the older man's long, flaccid member. Sweeney made a tiny involuntary sound of disgust, and squinched his eyes more tightly closed. Using just his thumb, Pirelli began to stroke the tip of the man's dick, gently tickling it with the nail.

For the love of God, thought Sweeney. If you think you're gonna make me enjoy this, you're wrong. Yet again, he began to send frantic brain signals to his crotch. Don't you dare... Don't fucking move…

Sweeney's orders were in vain… The feeling of Davey's gentle hand on his penis was too much for him to bear. Little Sweeney didn't know the difference between a woman and a six foot man. He woke up. Sweeney groaned in irritation and humiliation. Davey smiled triumphantly.

"Standing to attention for me, Mr Todd?" he cooed into the man's ear. Sweeney gritted his teeth again, refusing to look at Davey.

"Don't think it means anything," he growled.

"You don't want me then?" smiled Davey innocently, jerking his wrist sharply.

"Don't flatter yourself," Sweeney gasped.

Davey pouted, and withdrew his hand. Thank Christ, thought Sweeney reverently. But it seemed Davey wasn't finished. With both hands, he was now pushing Sweeney's trousers and his underwear with them down his thighs.

Fuck, thought Sweeney.

Yes! thought Davey excitedly. And rightly so. It seemed his talent for barbery was not the only huge thing that Mr Todd was blessed with.

"Hello," whispered Davey naughtily, dropping to his knees. Sweeney twitched angrily. Jesus, this was awful. Davey put a hand on Sweeney's thigh, and licked the end of his erection, just lightly. Sweeney shuddered. Davey grinned, and gently moulded his mouth around Sweeney, scraping his teeth against the hard length that now occupied his mouth. He twirled his tongue around the shaft, darting his tongue all over, biting softly now and then, until, with a reluctant moan, Sweeney came. He had honestly tried his hardest not to, but it couldn't be denied that Davey was good with his tongue.

"Mmm, Mr Todd," teased Davey, licking the thin gloss from his lips.

"Fuck you," the man gasped back.

"Now Mr Todd, behave yourself," laughed Davey, climbing back up the man's body and seating himself in the barber's chair. "My turn now, I think. If you will," he said to Sweeney, indicating his crotch, which was straining through the vibrant blue material.

"Jesus," muttered Sweeney in revulsion. Davey beckoned him over. He dragged his feet as he crossed the room, pulling his trousers back up his legs and rebuttoning them. Davey looked again at Sweeney, a mocking look that said "If you don't blow me, I'll have you killed." Sweeney jerked his head angrily.

"Take your fucking trousers off then," he muttered. Davey shook his head.

"No, Mr Todd. I want to savour this. You do it." Sweeney looked at him, wide eyed, incredulous. Davey's grin widened.

"Your fucking joking."

"No. Do it."

Sweeney gulped, trying not to vomit. He slowly dragged down the man's trousers, and gagged as he saw that the man hadn't been wearing underwear.

"There now," coaxed Davey. "Put it in your mouth."

Sweeney, feeling wretched, lowered his head. He managed to get his lips within about an inch of Davey. Then he stopped, suddenly.

"What?" asked Davey, irritated. "Come on."

"What the fuck's that?" asked Sweeney, pointing in revulsion at Davey's dick. Davey craned his head.

"What?"

"That fucking… green stuff. All the crusty shit!" replied Sweeney, gagging as he averted his eyes. Panic flared in Davey's eyes.

"It's… normal to have that…" he said uncertainly.

"Fuck!" cried Sweeney, choking down bile that had risen in his throat. "Get it away from me!" Davey frowned at him angrily.

"It's just… a little infection. Everyone gets it at some point."

"Shit. Ugh," gagged Sweeney.

"Just shut up and put it in," Davey commanded.

"Are you serious?!"

"Deadly," said Davey firmly. Sweeney looked into his eyes and saw that it was true. Shuddering and not daring to open his eyes, he ran his tongue over Davey's dick. Then hastily withdrew it.

"Now what?" demanded Davey.

"It's flaking off in my fucking mouth," replied Sweeney, heaving. He ran to the bathroom and leant over a bucked, retching until no more vomit would come. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and shuddering, he walked back into the parlour.

"Mr Todd. I'm not leaving 'til you give me what I came for," insisted Pirelli angrily, self consciously chipping flakes of green scum from the end of his dick. Sweeney looked away disgusted.

"Come here and suck it," demanded Pirelli. Sweeney stepped towards him, whipped a razor from the holster in his belt, and drew it across the man's neck. Davey spluttered, gargled, then lie still.

Nothing was worth that, thought Sweeney, pushing the memory to the back of his mind. I wonder if Mrs. Lovett will know what to do with him?

Mrs. Lovett's meat pie shop was selling the best pies in London the next day. The perfect solution for everyone… Except the customers. If Sweeney didn't get them, the infections surely would. Mmmmmm… Gonorrhea…

**So there you have it. Mmmm-mmm, that Pirelli's a catch! I know I'm disgusting etc etc. Still, I love reviews!!!! Even if it's just to tell me that you think I have a mind like a sewer. I will not take offence. This is because I do indeed have a mind like a sewer. Love you all, Merry Xmas! Beebs xxxxxxxx**


	2. Notice and Love

**Hello all! You'll notice I haven't been on fanfic for a while... My computer basically broke but I have a new laptop now so I'm hoping to be able to start posting again very soon! I'd like to say thank you so much to everyone who alerted, favourite and especially commented on my stories! I love all of you!**

**I'd also like to say that I'm open to suggestions. If you have an idea about where a story could go or have any special requests for stories I'd be happy to give them a shot. I say this because I know how frustrating it is when you can't find a certain pairing, hence me writing Lovett/ Johanna, Lucy/Pirelli, Sweeney/Pirelli instead of the more common pairings. **

**Love to everyone and feel free to post to me at any time with comments and suggestions.**

**And thanks for reading this fic!**

**Beebee xxxxxxxxxxx**


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